Green Grass
by danglingdingle
Summary: In the evening, when the tide rises and the sun sets, pirates can forget about the hard work of careening a ship, and enjoy their surroundings to the fullest. But, as it happens, there's a storm rising in the horizon for some of them. Jack/Will slash.


-1Title: Green Grass, Chapter 1

Characters/Pairing: Jack/Will, miscellaneous crew of the Black Pearl

Rating: This chapter: PG13

Disclaimer: Disney's characters on my playground, of whom I'm making mud pies that are not for sale, thus, no profit is made from any of this.

A/N: 1785 words introducing a post-PotC AU which happily ignores any sequels while taking a glimpse into the relationship between Jack and Will, and the life in the line of pirating.

A sand bucket full of pirate-shaped cookies and Pina Coladas (instead of moon pies and RC cola) for mamazano for beta and encouragement :)

Chapter 1

Another sun bathed day turned slowly into a gently cooling evening, as the crew of the Black Pearl, their business of pirating done for the day, were rapidly getting into high spirits, rewarding themselves and their hard work with copious amounts of well deserved food and drink.

The beach was peppered with shelters, crates, pots and pans, and a goat grazing on a tuft of fresh grass, only lifting her head to glare disapprovingly at the rowdy roars of laughter that burst in the air at particularly nasty remarks.

Clotheslines were set up between trees blossoming in purple, white, blue and orange, dazzlingly green leaves of bushes bearing passionflowers and honeysuckle, the vegetation providing shade and safety for the numerous reptiles hiding from the day's heat, and offering branches and hide-holes for the exotic birds to nest, soar and frolic between the trunks and tops of the banana trees.

"Right then, gents." Captain Jack Sparrow emerged from the tropical woods with a long call of a frigate bird sounding high above, carrying a wicker basket and ducking under the canopy of their temporary ball room, constructed of crates and suitable planks to form a serving table, long enough to hold the feast that would no doubt last until the small hours.

But here was one man missing from the festivities.

After finishing his hearty meal, Will Turner had left the camp with well wishes for the crew's evening and pleading to exhaustion when the men had protested Will's early departure. Before parting, Will had come by Jack and wrapped his arms around him from behind, whispering into his ear the sweetest words Jack had heard since yesterday, "Don't be long," and sealed Jack's wordless promise with a peck on his cheek.

Instead of the bawdiness and catcalls that had used to ignite among the crew when either their Captain or their shipmate expressed their fondness towards each other, the ones who still paid attention to such notions, only smirked knowingly with a wink to both the men, while Will gathered a tarpaulin and a blanket in a roll to take with him. Chewing on his food, Jack had smiled proudly, and buried his amusement into his tankard, while the warmth triggered by Will's embrace spread in his chest.

Grabbing two bottles from the bucket they'd been cooling in and wiping the dripping water on his breeches, Jack eyed the rest of the men sitting, laying, scattered around the square meal they had stuffed themselves with, and met deeply satisfied looks on the faces of his crew.

"The island is yours," Jack announced lavishly, spreading his arms as if to embrace them all, and was greeted with bottles and tankards raised in his honour in response by men who were intoxicated not only with rum and ale, but with the extravagance of their surroundings. Men, who were more used to tasting salt on their wind chapped lips and gazing into the endless blue, rather than the sweet, ripe, fresh juice of delicious fruits, and having their senses bombarded with the kaleidoscopic emblazonry of every shade of the rainbow.

Jack bowed out of the shelter, glancing into his basket once more, then planted the bottles of water securely between a pineapple and mangoes. He stopped, frowned as if to remember what he was forgetting, then turned back to get a bottle of rum, and snatched a piece of roasted meat from a plate on his way. Popping the scrumptious morsel into his mouth, Jack waved a hand in farewell to his celebrating crew, and began to make his way along the shoreline.

Following the footsteps left in the wet sand, his feet washed gently by the upcoming tide that gradually erased the imprints away, Jack took in the heady surroundings where they'd chosen to careen the Pearl.

Turning to see his Pearl bathed in the lengthening shadows, the myriad hues of the lowering sun painting her with warm shades, her windows reflecting the lights in a manner Jack could only interpret as a conspiratorial wink, Jack smiled fondly. He closed his eyes briefly to treasure the mix of the intoxicating scent of the sea and the sheer riot of fragrances coming from the abundance of blooming trees and flowers, but snapped them open again as the tremendous lack of a very specific flavour became too distinct.

Clad only in his breeches, rolled just under his knees, the waistline hanging low on his hips and his hat firmly planted on his head, Jack trudged in the hot sand, further away from the rising sounds of the brannigan he'd left behind, further from the acrid smell of black smoke coming from the fire fed into conflagration against the night with moist timber, each step taking him closer to where ever Will's footprints might lead.

Jack came upon a higher spot where a wide stretch of soft grass nearly touched the culmination point of the tide, a green expansion towards the water from the woods, a spot where Will reposed languidly, legs crossed at the ankles, his arms under his head serving as a pillow.

By the look of things, it seemed Will had dipped in the brine to wash off the days labour, his scarf laying next to him in a soggy bundle and his breeches clinging to every crevice they could, while Will's hair spilled damply over his upper arms, his whole appearance accentuated by the lingering streaks of sunlight reaching through the trees to play their fingers on his skin. Jack approached the young man quietly, unwilling to disturb the sight that threatened to draw him breathless, lamenting only in passing for missing the opportunity to witness the beauty that was a thoroughly soaked Will.

Clearing his throat so as not to startle, Jack stepped next to Will, set the basket on the ground, and deftly sat down, watching as a faint, content smile toyed on Will's lips, the sight turning Jack's own in a delighted curve.

Will opened one eye a fraction, and his smile spread to one of great discovery when finding Jack regarding him with a tender gaze, clearly in no hurry to ever stop. Will closed his eyes again, the shimmer of expectation tickling in the small of his back as he wished, willed, Jack to kiss him.

After a while, Will gave up hope and squinted at Jack, who still had his eyes locked in sweeping them over Will's form, his lopsided grin causing his eyes gleam with bare adoration. Ending his mental voyage to the man's face, Jack startled at Will's eyes being open with a good-natured lift of a brow asking wordlessly what it might be that Jack was doing, while a slight blush spread across Will's chest and up to his throat from being so openly admired.

The only sounds were the birds calling in the bushes, and the waves lapping fainéant on the shore as if gathering her strength to begin climbing the high tide. The upcoming evening breeze still blew in gentle gusts over the treetops, rustling leaves and aiding the fishing pelicans in their flight when they plunged to their pray, swooping down between flamingos, and rising up towards the skies again in the next moment.

Jack raised his hand slowly, lifting up a finger indicating for Will to wait, and when Will got up half-sitting, leaning on his elbows to follow intrigued with what he was doing, Jack turned to his basket and started to lay the contents out on display - The two bottles of fresh water and one of rum, two mangoes, a pineapple, a knife that had been through much, a small, oval, ornate ebony jar, a pewter plate, and finally, a banana leaf.

Making a deliberate show out of arranging the items sturdily on their naturally cushioned bed, Jack's stomach flipped at the sight of Will first licking his lip, then biting it, when he saw Jack's fingers brushing over the jar caressingly.

It didn't take much for the needy ache to start building in Will's loins, not, when he could just watch Jack sit there, flourished with the exquisite tinctures of the evening, the lengthening shadows exquisitely accentuating every detail that inspired heat to build inside Will in heavy throbs even in plain, sharp daylight. Here, the hollow above Jack's collarbone, how it curved beneath his throat on one, and lead a tantalizing path to his shoulder on the other side, was deeper, inviting Will to draw a slick line along it with his tongue, and nip at the tender skin at its thinnest over the bone.

Jack's chest and sides were dimpled with shadows that seemed to beg to be filled, made perfect for Will's fingers to slide over them, and to find once again how they fit like the man had been created to be touched by him… He drank in the details, eyes roaming hungrily over Jack's toes, his bare shin, knee half revealed under the cloth, and up to the waistline of the breeches to find yet another place to dip his tongue to… The planes of Jack's chest formed a shallow valley, where the lingering light caught the sheen of sweat gathered there, making Will swallow and swear that the daydream he'd played in his mind while waiting for his love, didn't really come even close to the real thing.

"Thirsty?"

Will startled from his musings at Jack offering him a bottle of water, and snapped up his head to meet Jack's eyes. Together with the sun's best efforts, the natural colour of the dark, immense wells Will happily fell into, and the look of pure desire in them, Will's mouth was suddenly dry.

Gratefully taking the offered drink, Will sat up and took long pulls of the cool liquid, convinced that he could hear a sizzling sound as the water poured down his throat.

Somewhat refreshed, Will handed the bottle back with all intentions to say thanks for the gesture, but got cut off by Jack's words getting in first.

"You got something there," Jack waved a hand to the general direction Will's head, his voice low enough to resound in Will's chest despite it being nigh a growl.

"Where?" Swiping his hand over his cheek, Will felt the tremor of impatience course through him, as Jack looked at him through half-closed, keen eyes, with his mouth slightly open.

"There," Jack unfolded his legs languidly and turned, getting up to his knees and hands, peering inquisitively at Will's lips. "I'll get that for you."

It was all the warning Will had before Jack dashed forward, tackling Will down to the ground and capturing his lips in a hungry, all-consuming kiss.

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TBC


End file.
